Give me a Brake

I had just pulled up to my campsite, dirty and exhausted from backpacking, to find that the stuff I had left behind was nowhere to be found.

I drove around the big RV that was now in its place, looking for any sign of my belongings. It was about 9 pm so I grabbed a flashlight and wandered around the campsite, hoping that I’d find my stuff piled in a corner somewhere. I found nothing.

I hoped that the family in the RV would notice someone walking around their camp with a flashlight and might come out to talk to me so I could ask about my stuff, but there was no sign of anyone. 

I was overwhelmed and frustrated. I needed to change out of my dirty clothes and get some sleep. Finding a new campsite with a cell signal in the dark was going to be an impossible task so I decided to just tuck the van in the corner of their campsite and spend the night. I’d be done working before 8 am and could ask them about my belongings when I finished.

I closed my computer the next morning and still hadn’t seen any signs of life from the RV. I got out of the van and wandered the campsite to get another look now that it was light outside. This family had 6 incredibly nice camp chairs around the fire ring, a screen tent that was much more expensive than mine, and a plethora of lawn games scattered about camp, as well as a grill. 

There was no way that they took my stuff.

They had all the same things, only nicer. They didn’t need my cheap, broken camp chair from the grocery store. They certainly didn’t need my $10 camp shower filled with river water. I was hoping they had just moved my things out of their way and had them tucked away somewhere, so I continued to wait at their campsite to talk to them.

Time passed and there was still no sign of anyone emerging from the RV. I was starting to wonder if anyone was even there. All the lights were off, and the campsite was quiet by 9 pm last night, so I was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t occupied after all. They had left their belongings behind for a night while they traveled elsewhere.

Oh, the irony.

I wrote a note and put it on the step to their camper. Then I journeyed down the road to try and find a new campsite to call home.

This campground had plenty of camping options, but the cell signal was spotty. I found a campsite that would have to work. This spot was a wide, open area that had fire rings scattered all over, so I picked one and parked the van. There were a few other campers around, but it was pretty empty. I spent the day replacing my camp chair and shower and pouting about my stolen belongings.

The next day it was time to pick myself up and keep moving forward. We were camping near Rocky Mountain National Park and I was excited to do some exploring. It was the time of year when afternoon thunderstorms were nearly guaranteed, and we got a late start so I planned to just drive through the park that day and pick a big hike to attempt the next. 

The drive through the park led to some incredible views, but it also quickly reminded me of my love/hate relationship with the National Parks. I had just come from a relatively quiet weekend of backpacking and I was now surrounded by crowds of people ignoring signs and approaching wildlife. I realized my backpacking trip hadn’t provided enough of the solitude I so badly needed, and I was still feeling pretty low on patience for other people. 

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This drive also provided several opportunities to see wildlife. At one point there was a herd of elk that crossed the road right in front of the van and I was also able to see two moose relaxing in a field.

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These wildlife spottings tend to cause traffic jams in National Parks though. People stop to let the animals cross (which is good) and some jump out of their cars to snap pictures (which is bad). With each stop and start, I was beginning to hear a loud squeaking noise that sounded like worn brakes. It couldn’t be my van though, because I had just been to the mechanic a handful of times for brake issues already this week! Sure enough, it was Forrest.

At this point, I was about ¾ of the way through this 50-mile road to the other side of the National Park when I got out to inspect the van. The wheel that I had been struggling with over this last week after I melted my parking brake was extremely hot again, despite already getting it “fixed.” I had no service, so I finished the drive through the park, found a cell signal again, and called the mechanic back. We were on a first-name basis at this point.

He ordered a new rear rotor and told me to come in the next day. Unfortunately, I was 60 miles from camp and was scared of melting anything else. I wanted to just spend the night there in Estes Park and drive back the next morning but was struggling to find a spot with a cell signal. I finally decided to just slowly trek back across the park, stopping every 10 miles to check on the van and let the wheel cool down, and we eventually made it back to camp.

Our appointment the next day went smoothly and I was more than ready to put this whole mistake behind me. I planned to do a long hike in Rocky Mountain National Park the next morning and then it would be time to meet up with a big caravan of van friends to travel together towards Taos, New Mexico.

There had been another van parked near my campsite the previous night with a guy who seemed to be about my age. I had wanted to offer him a beer the night before but opted for an early bedtime instead. So now as I sat outside watching the sunset and eating my dinner, I knew it would be time to be social tonight. Before I could go grab 2 beers though, I looked over and he was holding up a beer and gesturing towards me. 

There was one other group at camp that night: 2 guys traveling across the country on their motorcycles. The four of us ended up around a campfire together until well past my bedtime.

The next morning, Jared (the guy from the other van) and I planned to head into the National Park to do that hike together. We’d take both vans but leave his at the visitor center and take mine to the trailhead. As I was pulling into the visitor center parking lot, I could hear the incessant squeaky break sound again. I got out and couldn’t even put my hand on the rim of the wheel because it was too hot to touch. I had only driven 15 minutes and it was already this hot, so I knew a drive through the park again would be asking for trouble. Jared took off in his van to continue his adventures while I called the mechanic again.

“It must be the wheel bearing then. I’ll order one for you, but we’re swamped and probably won’t be able to get to it until Monday,” said the mechanic.

It was Thursday and I was supposed to be meeting up with a caravan of other van dwellers tomorrow. I was feeling completely defeated by how much this little mistake was now costing me.

I headed back towards my campsite and decided to do a short hike to a waterfall that was on the way, so I could at least say I had hiked something. It was a “low hanging fruit” hike, with a total distance of 1 mile and a waterfall to attract the masses, so I had a hard time enjoying it among the crowds. I found a quiet spot to wander down by the river where I sat for a while and watched the water, doing my best to let go of my frustration.

I returned to camp and was craving solitude. I laid down in the van to nap with the doors open so that I could still enjoy the nice weather. When I woke up, the campsite was packed.

I had unknowingly become part of a circle of RVs, each with an ATV or two. With all the campsite-sharing that had occurred lately, it seemed like the universe was playing a cruel joke on me. Little did I know, it was providing me exactly what I needed.

I decided to embrace the chaos by grabbing a beer and sitting outside on my new camp chair. A man from a nearby RV came over to introduce himself and to explain that this was a meetup for the Denver ATV group. I knew this was one of the only places I had service, so as much as I wanted to find a new place to camp, I’d be stuck here with the ATV meetup.

Not long after, the man in the camper next to me came over and offered me a beer. His name was Mark and he had only been on the road a couple of weeks. He was from the UK but had lived in Spain for a few years and was now going to be traveling through the US in his camper for the foreseeable future. He wasn’t part of the ATV club either, so we quickly became friends.

We shared a beer and he cooked us dinner while we sat and watched the sunset and had an easy conversation. Although he was old enough to be my dad, there was something about him that made him easy to connect with. I told him about the trouble I was having with the van and he insisted on looking at the parking brake the next morning for me. He was convinced that I was being taken advantage of by the mechanic and although he wasn’t a mechanic himself, he had done all his work on his vehicles and knew his way around a car.

The next morning, he began to poke around under the van. I stood nearby and googled images of the parts he’d shout to me from under Forrest. Just about an hour later, he had it fixed.

It turns out that when the mechanic replaced the parking brake cable, he never adjusted it, so it was too tight. This means my brakes were still rubbing even without the parking brake engaged. I called the mechanic to cancel my appointment for the new wheel bearing.

When I told him that I no longer needed his help, I also mentioned that my dear non-mechanic friend had been able to fix it for me. I told him what we had discovered, his response was, “We never saw a place on the cable to adjust it.”

As frustrated as I was, I was mostly just grateful to have met Mark and that he was willing and able to fix my van for free. So although I had been dying for solitude, I’m forever thankful that I didn’t hide in the van that night.

Having a working vehicle again meant that I would be able to meet up with my caravan of friends in Dillon, Colorado, which was only a couple hours from where I was camping. I packed up my belongings and got ready to leave. I said my goodbyes to Jared, who was still camped next to me and had become a fun neighbor. Then it was time to say goodbye to Mark. Although I had only known him a day, this goodbye made me surprisingly sad. We hugged goodbye and he wished me luck on my travels. He told me he was disappointed to see me go but he was happy he could get me back on the road.

I meet a lot of people as I travel. Many of them just pass through my life and appear as snippets on my blog and memories of interesting places I’ve traveled to. But sometimes, you find a real connection. It offers a little less small talk and gives you a space to open up, which is rare when you’re constantly moving. Something about crossing paths with Mark was incredibly special and I just hoped that we’d cross paths on the road again someday.

I drove off, surprised to feel a lump in my throat.

I also heard back from the family in the RV. They told me that when they arrived at the campsite it was completely empty, and I believe them. My best guess is that the guy who so boldly told me he was sharing my campsite from my last post is the person who took my things. I’ll never know for sure, but he was still at my campsite when I left to go backpacking, and I obviously had a bad feeling about him.

That afternoon, I made it to Dillon. I met up with my good van friend, Laurén, and met some new van dwellers as we relaxed in the grass with our dogs. Soon, we all retreated to our vans to cook some dinner and then we headed to the Dillon Amphitheater to catch a free concert.

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The next day was the Adventure Van Expo in Dillon. I had hoped to join a few friends to do some rock climbing, but the combination of not enough sleep and a few beers the night before led me to skip out on climbing. Instead, I headed back to the amphitheater to check out all the vans.

It was pouring rain, so I hung out under the awning of my Laurén’s van while people came to tour the inside. Eventually, it was time for me to eat, so I went back to the van to cook. I had the doors open and soon I had a small crowd at my door, asking to check out my van. 

At an event showcasing incredible, professionally-built adventure vans, it was surprising to have people that wanted to see Forrest. I’m very proud of my van, but I know it doesn’t always stack up against some of these vans being shown off at the expo or the ones I see on Instagram. Although I was starving and just wanted to eat lunch, I was enjoying talking to people about my van. Many people appreciated seeing what I had done in contrast to so many of the professionally-built vans that make vanlife seem unrealistic to the average person. 

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Soon it was time to begin our caravan to Taos. This big group of van friends would be traveling together from Dillon to Taos, New Mexico for a large vanlife gathering. I’ve only really traveled alone and had mixed feelings about hitting the road with so many people. I’ve grown to love traveling solo. I love setting my own pace and sticking to my 2-hour rule for driving. My job has such difficult hours, but I’m not really bothered by them when I’m doing my own thing alone. Trying to balance my work and social life would be challenging and I was a little anxious about not getting my alone time. On the other hand, I was excited to be surrounded by so many like-minded people for a while.

Our first stop was in Twin Lakes, Colorado. I had been here back in the spring on my way to Kremmling for a quick overnight stop and I was looking forward to coming back and seeing it in warmer weather. We managed to Tetris about 10 vans into every crevice of the site and we spent the evening chatting and wandering around the new neighborhood. 

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The next morning, there was an excursion to the top of Mt. Elbert, which is the tallest peak in Colorado. They’d be leaving camp before sunrise, which meant I’d be working when they left. I was disappointed to be missing out on the hike and could feel how badly I needed an adventure.

It rained most of that day though, which made me slightly less envious of their peak-bagging. Instead, I squeezed into a van with about 6 other people and we spent the afternoon reading moon signs and sharing food.

Traveling with friends was fun in so many ways but it was also taking its toll on me. I was exhausted and struggling to balance my work life and social life. Every evening the group gathered firewood and sat around the campfire while I was sleeping in my van. We spent chunks of each day driving so I couldn’t push the lack of sleep too far or I wouldn’t be able to drive. I also missed my alone time.

During this time, I also received a text from the principal at the school I used to work at. She had a last-minute open position for a first-grade teacher. Although she knew the answer would be no, she said she needed to ask me anyways. I knew the answer was no, too, but for some reason this text sort of made me question my plan. Could I go teach for a year and save a bunch of money while living in the van? If I did that, would I ever hit the road again? I offered to come back and get the school year started if she couldn’t find anyone else, but it didn’t come to that. Most days there’s a part of me that still misses teaching, but I know that the road is where I’m supposed to be right now.

The next day we had a slow morning before starting the journey to Crested Butte. I knew I needed some exercise, so I stayed at camp a bit longer to take Dakota for a bike ride while everyone else set off for the next spot. Soon we were on the road too, but I was struggling to stay alert on my drive. I do my best to not push the pace when I get tired. There’s no reason to put myself or anyone else in danger, especially when I have my entire home with me and can sleep anywhere at any time. So, I decided to find the closest spot and meet up with the caravan in the morning.

This plopped me in Gunnison, Colorado. There was free camping at a spot among a huge system of bike trails. The terrain was rocky and covered with sagebrush and for a minute it almost felt like I was back in the desert. I knew I had made the right decision to peel off from the group for a night because of my drowsiness, but I also probably needed the alone time as well.

The next morning, after scrambling among the rocks with Dakota, we headed to Crested Butte. I had been to Crested Butte nearly 10 years ago during a ski club trip in college, but I had never been here during the summer. It is a spot known for its skiing in the winter and its wildflowers in the summer. We had a huge campsite with spectacular views, and it felt nice to join up with the group again. 

Shortly after arriving, we set off for a big group wander up the road. We had a pretty large crew of people and an equally large pack of dogs. This spontaneous walk landed us in a shady spot among the pine trees where we sat on the ground and enjoyed the beautiful weather while the dogs explored around us. The afternoon was spent soaking our feet in the river, flying kites, and crafts of various forms. It was hard knowing that we were camped out near so many incredible hiking/biking trails and that I wouldn’t have time to explore them. I knew this was a spot I would need to visit again.

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The next day we were off again. The plan was to take the scenic route to a campsite south of Pagosa Springs, Colorado. We were going to stick together for the drive today, so we all left Crested Butte in one long line of vans. We drove for a few hours and I was having a hard time staying alert. I was trying every trick I knew, but we had already hit my 2-hour limit and I could feel it in my entire body. Still, we had a while to go before we hit our destination. After a couple more hours, we stopped in Creede, Colorado to stretch our legs and eat some snacks. There is a lot of mining history in Creede and I took Dakota for a stroll to try and shake the sleepiness off.

After nearly 7 hours of travel time, including stops, we had arrived at camp. There was a steep, bumpy, winding road that we had to take to get there that was not so kind to our caravan. Casualties included a full gallon of milk and an entire bottle of tiki torch fluid, luckily not in my van. I was thankful that Forrest held it together and we made it up without any issues so that we could jump in and lend a helping hand as everyone else was cleaning up their messes.

I was beyond exhausted that night. The long day of travel was more than I ever push myself to do and all I wanted to do was sleep. I called it an early night and was looking forward to our final push to Taos in the morning.

The next day had another scenic drive planned, but luckily a few other friends were also feeling the fatigue and were ready to be in Taos, so we split the caravan into two and I followed a crew on the more direct route. 

We pulled into Hotel Luna Mystica early that evening. Our caravan had early-access privileges to the gathering, so it was just a small group of us that night. We all grabbed our dogs and wandered next door to the brewery to take advantage of happy hour and enjoy the calm before the storm of people who would be arriving tomorrow.

I had just one more morning of work standing between me and a weekend of immersing myself in the vanlife community. I tucked into bed early again for one more night, excited for the busy weekend ahead.

“I woke up from the daydream of my twenties in a cold sweat, anxious for all the lives I hadn’t lived.”

Atticus